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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797887">that special something</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy'>days4daisy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Bondage, Chains, Extra Treat, Gags, M/M, Power Imbalance, Public Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Thor: Ragnarok (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:22:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“When you play nice, things feel so much better,” the Grandmaster chides. “You’ll get there, Sparkles. I believe in you. Pain’s good though, you know? We all need a reminder now and then of where we stand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>En Dwi Gast | Grandmaster/Thor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Nonconathon 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>that special something</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashyTime/gifts">TrashyTime</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thor's dream hovers between good and bad. There is pain, old and draining but fresh and sharp too. There is pleasure too, warmth that spills into the spring of his gut. He can't move.</p><p>“Is he up? Ah, good, good. I was starting to think we might, uh, lose him there. Lots of work for nothing, am I right?”</p><p>Thor fought the Hulk. He remembers it now, somewhat. There was a gladiatorial arena packed with thousands of fans screaming for the Hulk. Imagine that, the big guy with fans.</p><p>Hulk didn’t seem to remember him. Or he remembered Thor but didn’t want to. He wanted to fight, and Thor understands the feeling. He wanted Hulk to aid him in his quest to return to Asgard. But few appreciate the need for a good fight quite like Thor. He has steam to burn. Loki, alive. His father, dead. A surprise sister, bent on conquering the universe.</p><p>Thor is on a literal garbage planet, captured by a possible-traitor maybe-future-friend(-if-convinced)? He's at the mercy of a lunatic who decorated his palace of trash like one of Asgard’s nurseries. Thor cannot get back to a home that will perish without his help. It may still even with Thor's help, Asgard's great palace reduced to dust like Mjolnir in Hela’s hand.</p><p>Yes, Thor had ample reason to want a good scrap. And Hulk gave him one, the monster's punches as fast as they were powerful. Thor thought he was done for until something awoke in him. Something sudden and wild as a battering storm. Thor rose, lightning in his eyes, and prepared for the ending blow.</p><p>Then, everything went dark. Now, he's here.</p><p>Thor opens his eyes. He hopes for a miracle. The healing rooms back home. A friendly get-away ship with coordinates set on Asgard. Thor would even settle for a medical wing somewhere within the sham of a castle on Sakaar. But no, it is Sakaar’s party lounge that greets Thor’s fatigued eyes. It's a packed house. The raucous crowd grows rowdy thanks to a thumping beat that seems to permeate the walls. Thor casts a look around for Loki, but his brother does not show himself. He is not sure whether he feels more relief or disappointment.</p><p>“There you are, Sparkles. We’ve been so worried! Quite the beating you took, a real wallop.” It is, curse Thor’s terrible luck, the Grandmaster who he first recognizes among the crowd. Sakaar’s ruler peacocks himself as grandly as usual. He’s freshened up his make-up, eyes lined with a sparkling shade of sky blue. A matching streak traces from his bottom lip to his jaw. He’s added a touch of rouge to his mouth - soft pink typically reserved for a baby’s swathing.</p><p>Thor rises to confront the beast, but he is fast to figure out the cause of his paralysis. Matching chains restrain Thor's wrists and ankles. He is strung up, spread eagle against a wall. The stretch burns his over-exerted legs, and Thor looks down at himself to assess the damage. He’s naked. Wonderful. His rib cage bears bruises from his confrontation with the Hulk.</p><p>More alarming is the state of Thor’s cock - aroused and glazed wet. Thor feels cold in the open air, he grimaces when the sensation hits. He recalls the pleasure of his dream state. Caused, no doubt, by something happening to his body in real time.</p><p>Now would be a great time for Hulk to stop fooling around and forget this ‘no Banner, only Hulk’ business. Hulk owes him one after what he pulled in the arena. But the big guy is not here. No Loki, no Banner, not even the Valkyrie who placed Thor in this position to begin with.</p><p>No, it’s only the Grandmaster and his room of inebriated revelers. Most pause their debauchery to give Thor their attention. The looks they give him are...not the most comfortable, to be frank.</p><p>“Everyone.” The Grandmaster lifts a crystal glass of something shiny and blue. “Let’s give our warrior here a hand. He wasn’t a match for my champion, of course he wasn’t. But he sure gave it a good go, didn’t he?” The Grandmaster taps a polite hand against the side of his toast. His rings, gold and large, clank against it.</p><p>The Grandmaster's crowd follows suit, lifting glasses of questionable looking cocktails. Their shouts sound more derisive than sincere, but Thor is too consumed with anger to care.</p><p>“You cheated,” Thor snarls. “I had the match won, but this thing on my neck-”</p><p>-blinding, hideous, nerve-rattling pain.</p><p>“You mean this thing on your neck?” The Grandmaster laughs.</p><p>Thor barely hears him over the grinding of his own teeth. He spasms in his chains, metal clanging against the wall.</p><p>“I wouldn’t say <em>that</em> exactly," the Grandmaster continues. "I mean, you put up a good fight, but not good enough.”</p><p>When the seizure ends, Thor sags in his bonds. His legs go out from under him, but the chains holding his arms have no give. Forced to carry his full body weight, fire wrings through his outstretched arms. Thor can’t muster more than a gasp. Pain stings at his eyes and constricts his chest like he’s carrying a boulder.</p><p>Unconsciousness threatens sweetly, black spots swimming before Thor’s eyes. Drowsily, he lolls his gaze in the Grandmaster’s direction. Sakaar’s ruler is sashaying towards him, gold robe swaying with every step. He wears a tooth-bearing smile, and Thor goes cold. He cannot manage even a futile tug on his chains let alone the power that flooded him in the arena.</p><p>“You know, I don’t like bad attitudes. Long as I’ve been around, you’d think I’d like a bit of disobedience now and then, spice things up. But I have to say, I’m not a fan. Usually. But there’s something about you, Sparkles.” Long, manicured fingers caress Thor’s cheek. Pain-racked as Thor is, the touch startles enough to make Thor recoil in his chains.</p><p>The Grandmaster laughs with delight. “Yeah, yeah, just like that! I’ve killed people for less. Not many. A few dozen...hundred... Somewhere along those lines. But <em>you</em>. I should have you drawn and quartered, my friend, but there’s something special about you. I can feel it.” The Grandmaster threads fingers through Thor’s short hair. “Oooh yeah, I feel it alright. How ‘bout you, Sparkles? You feel that special something?”</p><p>Thor forces his eyes upwards. “Go to Hel,” he spits.</p><p>The Grandmaster tuts and sets an affronted hand on his own chest. “Well now, that’s rude. And impossible. My kind, well, we sort of exist beyond the spectrum of what you would call an afterlife. I mean, we can die, sure. But what’s the payoff when a guy as old as life itself dies? Crazy to think about, isn’t it?”</p><p>Cold sweat trickles down Thor’s back. He has a terrible, sinking feeling of being out of his league.</p><p>Begrudgingly, Thor finds he can’t blame Loki for choosing to pander to this lunatic. Still, wisdom has never been Thor’s strong suit when brave-yet-stupid is an option. Weak as he feels, Thor still barks, “You got the fight you wanted. I’ve fulfilled my obligation. Let me go, <em>now</em>, or you will live to regret it.”</p><p>The Grandmaster hums, considering the proposition.</p><p>His answer is to set his hand over Thor’s lips. “I did say I like your spunk, and I do. But it can get a bit tiresome. It takes away from your, ah, from the rest of you. There’s so much to look at! I’m a visual kinda guy, and the prettiest things, you know, they’re better to see than hear.”</p><p>Something is in Thor’s mouth.</p><p>It starts as a pinch, and Thor tries to pull away. But he finds himself unable to this time. The Grandmaster is doing something to him. Thor can’t move at all, not even rattle in his chains. And the thing in his mouth is growing like a root. It sprouts along his lips, takes hold inside his mouth and lengthens, expands.</p><p>Thor’s breath shortens with panic. He tries to speak, but he can’t with this new thing lodged in his mouth. It grows thick and hard, and Thor has to open wider so he won’t lose any teeth. His jaw burns in protest, but the thing continues to grow. Thor coughs, breaths choking faster. Whatever it is, this growing thing pushes on his tongue. It sprouts across it, and Thor’s heart pounds. He feels it against the back of his throat, scraping a place never touched before. Thor instinctively heaves, and tears burn in his eyes.</p><p>It stops just before constricting Thor’s air entirely. Sweat dribbles down Thor’s brow. He takes short gasps through his nose, nostrils flared wide. His lips ache, and his tongue is stuck, plastered to the bottom of his mouth.</p><p>“Oh stars, that’s it,” the Grandmaster breathes. His face lights up, and he caresses Thor’s cheek again, collecting sweat and tears with his knuckles. “Yes, oh yes, it’s a perfect size. Look at you, sweet thing. I knew you'd cry pretty.”</p><p>The Grandmaster does not care that Thor can barely breathe. He does not care, because he drapes his hand across Thor’s throat. His thumb pushes in, constricting what little air still flows up Thor’s neck. Thor makes a sharp, gagging sound of protest.</p><p>“I know,” the Grandmaster soothes with a patient smile. “All of this is a bit sudden. I mean, especially after your defeat at the hands of my champion. But I like you,” he says. “We’ve got some potential, you and me. You just need to relax. Go with the flow. Don’t be so tense.”</p><p>The Grandmaster lets go of Thor’s neck. The same hand seconds later winds around his cock.</p><p>Thor actually forgets about his hard-on until the Grandmaster forcibly reminds him. He tries to jerk away but only succeeds in clanking his chains against the wall. His cock is wet too, he remembers. Wet like someone’s mouth has been around him. Or multiple someones.</p><p>The crowd puts their conversations on hold to watch this psychopath stroke him. Eager looks scan up and down Thor’s body like he’s a slab of meat meant for the butcher’s knife. Thor would scream at them, tell them how vile they truly are, if not for the object wedged in his mouth. His jaw screams for relief, but there is none. A mere swallow shoots pain through every muscle in Thor’s neck.</p><p>“Mmm, mmm.” The Grandmaster smiles over him. “Can’t imagine who or what tossed you on the junk pile. But you know what they say, one man’s trash is another man’s stash. I do like pretty things, and you, darling? You’re as pretty as they come.”</p><p>What Thor wouldn’t give to make this lunatic choke on his own smile. But he can’t sense any of the power that flooded him in the arena. All he feels is the patient stroke of the Grandmaster’s fingers around his shaft. Thor twists his head away. If this is how he is to be humiliated, so be it.</p><p>“This is nice,” the Grandmaster hums. “Real nice, but ah, I think I need you more open. A little wider. Can we make him a little wider?”</p><p>Over the incessant thump of the music, Thor hears a distant clang. Like a clatter of armor tossed off after a training drill.</p><p>He grunts when the chains around his ankles sweep outward. An uncomfortable stretch shoots through his thighs. Pain flares up his back and knots in his shoulders as his arms yet again must carry the brunt of his weight. His feet can no longer plant on the floor. Thor's toes scratch for more leverage, but the ground lacks as much as the edge of a tile to balance on.</p><p>“Oh yeah, that’s the pose. Don’t you think?” The Grandmaster aims the nonchalant question over his shoulder. Three or four spectators nod in enthusiastic agreement. “I do love a good fighter. All that flexibility, and goodness gracious, the <em>muscle.</em>”</p><p>The Grandmaster slides a casual hand between Thor’s legs. A single manicured finger traces the inside of his left thigh. Thor grunts and tries to yank away, but he has no leverage. He only manages to snap his own back against the wall. His head rattles with the hit, the room fuzzing out of focus.</p><p>“Oh come on, it’s not <em>that</em> bad.” The Grandmaster laughs, light and pleasant. “If I didn’t know better, Sparkles, I’d say this is the first time you’ve been spoiled in your life. Haven’t you ever wanted to, oh I don’t know, close your eyes and let go?”</p><p>Thor has felt panic. Anger. Discomfort. But for the first time, he's afraid. It’s like ice down his back, a chill that throbs behind his eyes.</p><p>The Grandmaster played with him before now. Treated him like a child, even fondled him inappropriately for laughs. But this… Thor can’t believe he actually intends to do this.</p><p>With a playful waggle of his head, the Grandmaster undoes his golden robe and slips it from his shoulders. Today, the Grandmaster wears no tunic under his gaudy outerwear. A layer of glitter dresses his skin, and a blue gem sparkles from his navel. In another circumstance, it would be ridiculous; a laugh worthy farce.</p><p>Thor’s fear turns hot when the Grandmaster kicks out of his golden sandals and slides his pants down. The obstruction in his mouth only makes the dizziness worse. Thor's heart thumps in his chest. The room swims. He needs to get out of here. Now, right <em>now.</em></p><p>Thor struggles with everything he has. His arms scream and his back seizes up, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except getting out of here now, <em>now</em>, before this lunatic actually tries to-</p><p>Buzzing. Rattling. Sudden and head splitting.</p><p>His veins are on fire. His nerves, blistered and burning. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. Thor is choking. He’s on fire. His body won’t stop moving. Shaking. Black spots. Teeth grinding against the weight crushed against his tongue.</p><p>When the seizure ends, Thor goes limp. His entire weight hangs from his wrists, but he’s too out of his head to feel the unhealthy snap of his limbs. It takes a moment to realize the wetness he feels is drool trickling out around the thing in his mouth. Thor can’t lift his head. His eyes can barely open, and what he sees is a blur. A smear of colors and glittering skin.</p><p>Thor gags when his head is forced upward. His scalp screams in protest.</p><p>“When you play nice, things feel so much better,” the Grandmaster chides. “You’ll get there, Sparkles. I believe in you. Pain’s good though, you know? We all need a reminder now and then of where we stand. You?” The Grandmaster wrenches Thor’s head higher. Thor groans around the gag. “Sweetheart, you were a big fish in a small pond, I get it! But you got lost, and now you're found. I found you, how ‘bout that? And I'll keep you safe and sound from here on out. You just have to behave, that's the deal.”</p><p>Thor wants to tell him where to stick all the big fish, and all the ponds for that matter. But, mouth obstructed and out of his head, all he can manage is a sickly moan.</p><p>“There now.” The Grandmaster gives Thor’s hair a gentle stroke. “That’s better.” Thor’s scalp aches under the touch. “Now, where were we? Oh yes.” He holds out a hand.</p><p>It’s filled a second later by someone Thor doesn't see. But his vision clears enough to make out a bottle. It’s oil of some kind, blue as a summer sky, filling a glass bottle cut in the shape of a hexagon. “Oooh, you’ll like this one,” the Grandmaster enthuses. “Sweet Summer Buns. Do they have those where you’re from? At, ah, what was it? Ass-place? Ass-guard? They’re these sticky things, warm and drizzled with honey. Delicious. And the smell is just, mmm-mmm-mmm.” The Grandmaster unscrews the bottle and holds it under Thor’s nose. “Take a whiff. Nice, huh?”</p><p>Thor would rather not, but breathing through his nose is the only thing keeping his gag reflex at bay. It is a pleasant scent, reminiscent of the baking stoves in the palace. A parade of treats for every feast, none more coveted than the sweet bread.</p><p>Thor wishes it did not smell good. Especially when the Grandmaster begins to dress his cock with it. The Grandmaster smiles all the while, narrowed eyes on Thor. He makes a show of pumping his hips towards his own hand.</p><p>The smell of the sweet buns floods Thor’s nostrils. He’s going to be sick. Bile rises up Thor's throat, and he swallows desperately. Tears smear the room out of focus, and fresh saliva drools out from around his gag.</p><p>“Would you look at that?” The Grandmaster laughs. “Eager, are we? Easy, tiger. You won’t have to wait much longer.”</p><p>Thor tries to shake his head, but even this seems too great a motion. His chin sags to his chest, at the unfortunate angle to give a full view of the Grandmaster’s self-pleasuring. The Grandmaster's nails are sky blue, and he cups himself in a loose fist.</p><p>“I’d say that’s enough, what do you say?” The Grandmaster pauses, then tsks. “Heh, right. Lucky for you, Sparkles, no words necessary for this part. Just enjoy. Thank me later.”</p><p>He takes a large step forward, and Thor’s senses flood with the heat of his skin. He’s so warm and smells too sweet.Thor can’t struggle, and he can’t force his legs to close. Stretched wide by the chains, he can only shudder and gasp in a panic behind his gag as he feels a nudge of pressure. “Nnn-” Thor manages.</p><p>It’s sudden and everywhere. Pain explodes behind Thor’s eyes and stabs through his waist. His legs, his core, everything is on fire. Thor twists in alarm, eyes squeezed shut. He heaves for breath around the gag, but he can’t get enough of it. It hurts. Thor struggles for breath, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.</p><p>The Grandmaster’s husky groan puffs against Thor’s ear. “Oooh yeah, hon. I knew you’d be good. I always know.”</p><p>Thor wants to kill him. He wants to call every last shred of power he has and fry the barbarian where he stands. But at the moment when Thor needs Asgard most, the power of his namesake is silent as the dead. All he can hear, feel, and see is pain. It pounds through his temples and tears his guts wide open. It bleeds between his thighs and careens through his legs.</p><p>Thor coughs and chokes around the gag. His face is sticky with tears and saliva. The Grandmaster adds to the mess with a slow lick of Thor’s throat. Thor barely feels the gesture, everything hurts too much.</p><p>The Grandmaster snaps his hips forward. Thor’s voice cracks under the weight on his tongue.</p><p>“Oh yeah,” The Grandmaster purrs. “Good boy. So, so good.”</p><p>Every thrust is like a death blow. Thor sags in his chains, pliant for the hands the Grandmaster runs down his body. When the Grandmaster squeezes Thor’s uninterested cock, Thor doesn’t even feel it. Or the mess on his face. Or the trickle of blood between his thighs. There’s too much else to feel. Thor drops his head back against the wall and groans.</p><p>When the Grandmaster comes, he sighs against Thor’s ear. His release sloshes against Thor’s torn insides. Blood and come dribble down Thor’s legs and splatter in milky pink drops on the floor.</p><p>“You’re a natural, champ.” The Grandmaster sounds breathless between licks of Thor’s ear. “Oh my goodness. A real pro.”</p><p>Thor cannot tell if he’s crying, coughing, dry heaving, or all three in one go. His lungs hurt, his head is killing him, and there is so much pain that it barely registers as pain as all. Everything in him is open, raw and throbbing. He wants to pass out. He wants anything that isn’t being present in his own head at the moment.</p><p>The Grandmaster replaces his robe with grace and steps back into his sandals. “Oh yeah, you’ll need a bath,” the Grandmaster muses. “Can’t have another go before a good scrub, am I right? But not yet, not yet. For now, ah, hey Larry! Turn that music up, will ya?”</p><p>The blaring beat of the lounge bass is like an anvil inside Thor’s skull.</p><p>“You’re so pretty,” the Grandmaster croons, “I’d hate to hog you all to myself. Why don’t you hang out awhile? Put on a happy face for my guests, huh?”</p><p>The Grandmaster leaves Thor hanging against the wall, soiled and sore. He's nailed up like a piece of art and garners the same kind of bemused attention. Partygoers point and murmur to each other. A few laughs break out from the assembled crowd. Thor wants to destroy every single one of them with his fists.</p><p>He clings to his anger as fiercely as he can. Thor will free himself from this place soon enough. He'll murder every single complicit soul and then find his way back to Asgard before it’s too late.</p><p>But Thor hurts everywhere.</p><p>He squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head from the crowd. Deep breaths in and out. He’s ok. It’s all ok. There will not be a next time, unless it involves Thor breaking the Grandmaster’s spine.</p><p>Think of Asgard. Of Hela. Of his people in danger.</p><p>Think of anything, everything, but where he is right now.</p>
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